Page 23 of Rough Patch

Grier shut the water off and toweled dry then dressed in jeans a little looser than before and a t-shirt that hung longer on his frame. As he pulled on his socks, he heard the sound of the first explosion. The sound he’d been hearing in his head since that day. He didn’t even have to close his eyes and there it was. When he breathed, he could still smell the smoke and feel the heat of the flames as he and Sage tried to save whoever they could get to. Fuck. Would it never end?

His stomach rolled, and he dashed back to the bathroom. He couldn’t do this. Couldn’t walk around pretending this wasn’t his fault. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand then sat on the floor against the wall. He might’ve sat there for an hour or a week, probably just a few minutes, but he couldn’t bring himself to stand, couldn’t walk out there and face all the people he’d let down.

At the knock on the door, he looked up but didn’t move until it pushed open. “Hey.”

Jez walked in and shut the door behind her. She sat down next to him and took his hand. “I know you’re in a bad place in your head. It hurts, but you’re not the only one hurting. And she doesn’t have a choice about getting up and going on. She doesn’t get to curl up on the couch and cry even though it’s probably what she needs to do. These were her friends, too. Our friends. And she’s dealing with the cops, the customers, the club, and she’s pregnant.”

“I saw them die.” And he couldn’t shake the images in his head.

“I know.” She shook her head. “And I don’t care. I care about her. I care that right now, she’s struggling, and the only person she wants to hold her up is you, and you’re letting her down.” The sternness in her voice added to his guilt. “I think you have to ask yourself what makes you so special that you get to sit here and act like this only happened to you when we all lost those boys.”

Everything they’d said today made sense, made him feel like an epic asshole, but what his head knew and what his body could handle were very different things.

“I watched Griff die.” And goddammit, he was crying again.

“I know, baby.”

“I couldn’t do anything for any of them.”

“No, you couldn’t. But there’s a woman out there who needs you now, and you can help her. But if this is the thing that’s gonna break you, you don’t deserve her because she’s held everybody up, and she needs someone strong enough to help her get through this, too.”

Grier ran his hand over his face. “I just need a minute.”

Jez nodded and stood then held out her hand to help him up. “You’ve had enough minutes. Either go out there and be the man she needs you to be, or I swear to God and every single man woman and child on this earth, I will shoot you myself.”

He didn’t doubt she would, he just didn’t know if he had anything left in him. “How?”

“With a gun.” She wrinkled her eyebrows.

He chuckled. Classic Jez. “I meant—”

“I know what you meant, and I don’t care how you do it. If you have to cry in the shower or go for a walk or a ride or whatever, but you be there for her because she would put her shit aside for you, and you damned well know it. She deserves a man who will do the same for her.” She pulled her hand to punch it to her hip. “Now, are you gonna get up and be a man or do I go get my gun?”

He stood because he wanted to as much as she hadn’t left him a choice. “You’re a hard woman, Jez.”

She nodded. “You don’t last as long as I do without picking up a little grit.” She opened the door and frowned at the squeak of the hinges. “A little cooking oil on that hinge will fix that.”

Apparently being around this long also gave her a bit of DIY knowledge, too. However, she’d also managed to point out just one more way he’d failed as a husband.

“I’ll get on it.” As soon as he made the last few days up to Fiona. And that started with an apology.

He followed Jez into the kitchen where Fiona stood at the counter with her back to them. When she turned, he put his arms around her and drew her close. “I’m sorry.”

Instead of speaking, she laid her head over his heart and breathed out a long sigh. “It’s okay.” She tilted her chin up and stared into his eyes. “We’re gonna get through this. And we’re going to figure out what to do to let the world know the Screaming Demons own this town and we’re still in charge here.”

He nodded. When she said it, he could almost believe it.

Fiona’s medical knowledge could have probably left a thimble half full if she tried to pour it all into one, but she knew they didn’t call you into the office to deliver good news. And no amount of comfort or consolation, not that she had any, would make it better. Grier had found a reason, checking out the compound where they’d found their merchandise, not to attend any of her last seven baby appointments. Honestly, how much checking could he do, and did he always have to do it on doctor days?

She sat forward, the weight of her belly these days making her too top-heavy for her back to offer much support. The clock ticked loudly on the wall across from her and the antiseptic smell in the room, or maybe her nerves, incited her nausea, but she closed her eyes and tried to center herself.

Christ. How long could they keep her waiting? Her phone dinged and she pulled it from her pocket, hoping he’d at least thought enough to send her a text. But it was just one from Jez. Three single question marks.

Fiona typed a reply—still waiting—and set her phone on the counter as the doctor swung the door open and walked in. Doctor Rutledge was a nice woman, young, smart, and no-nonsense, with shiny blonde hair she let hang down her back and kind eyes.

“Fiona. Good to see you.” She held a file folder open in her hand and flipped to a second page as she sat on a rolling chair at the counter.

“Yeah. I wish I could say the same.”